


Daddy Lessons

by kurfeirak



Category: Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Malec, daddy maggy, i'm so sorry honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7327336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurfeirak/pseuds/kurfeirak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec's plan to broaden his horizons with Magnus goes a bit further than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going through a lot.

One night Alec appears unannounced behind Magnus’ door, takes a deep breath, and says:

“I want to become better.”

He’s standing in the hallway with his chest out like a soldier, despite his heart beating so fast it feels like it might burst through it. Magnus looks back at him from the other side of the threshold with good-natured confusion.

“Better at what, my dear?”

“At… At everything,” Alec manages before taking another deep breath. “At sex. With you. You’ve been so good about how… not-so-good I have been, and I want to know how to repay that, so. Tell me.”

Saying the words out loud makes blood rush to his face, but the smile that spreads on Magnus’ makes it worth the embarrassment.

“You sure know how to cheer up a Monday night,” Magnus says, pulling Alec in by the hand.

Not much has changed in the apartment since Alec left it the day before. A few books have appeared on the coffee table, opened and scattered next to an empty but red-stained wine glass, but that seems to be the extent of it: a relief, since Alec hadn’t even taken into consideration that he might be interrupting something important until he’d knocked on the door. Apparently spending the entire day thinking about what he’d do once he got himself alone with Magnus had distracted him from giving any thought to the practical side of actually making it happen.

“May I ask what brought this on tonight?” the warlock asks, following him into the apartment. Alec shrugs and turns around, trying to remember how he’d planned on presenting his case, but the words escape him. 

“Just… The other night,” he says, looking away but feeling Magnus’ eyes on him. “I may not have been as... Uh. Attentive, as I could have been. And not just then,” he adds quickly, “it’s like I said, you’ve been really patient while I’ve just been, kind of… Trying to figure it out. But I still don’t think I really have anything… Figured… Out. Y’know.”

He laughs nervously and hopes those are all the roundabout ways he has to come up with for saying ‘you’ve made me cum ten thousand times in the past week and I’ve still barely sucked you off.’ Judging by the gentle smile on Magnus’ face, the message gets across.

“Oh, Alec.”

The man moves in closer and shakes his head.

“You don’t have to have it figured out right away,” he says, brushing Alec’s jawline with his thumb. “It’s perfectly normal for it to take a while to… Find your sea legs, so to speak. The first times are a bit shaky for everyone.”

“I know, I know,” Alec sighs with a roll of his eyes, “I’ve heard all about the birds and the bees and how it’s not gonna be perfect for either the first time around.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows.

“Didn’t think your parents were the ‘birds and the bees’ type.”

“They’re not; Izzie’s just always been very concerned about my romantic life.”

“Well, that makes more sense.”

Alec lets out a quiet laugh and pulls Magnus closer, hoping finally having the man close would help with his nerves – it doesn’t, not really, but it transforms them from the kind that twist his insides into knots to the kind that resemble butterflies.

“And you don’t have to sugarcoat it,” he says. “It’s pretty obvious which one of us is more… I don’t know. Experienced.”

“But it’s not just about experience, Alexander,” Magnus reminds him, his hands resting lightly on Alec’s sides. “It’s… intuition. And passion. And you certainly lack neither.” His thumbs make slow, gentle circles over Alec’s hipbones as he adds: “And you already seem to know it’s also about communication; saying out loud when it feels good, and how it could feel better.”

Alec tries to, wants to concentrate, but Magnus’ fingers start tracing the waistline of his pants in a way that quickly proves to be a distraction. The smirk on the warlock’s face isn’t helping, either.

“I… Okay,” he stutters, shifting on his feet to further distract himself from the blood rushing to down from his face to somewhere a bit more inconvenient this early on. “You could start with that, then. So. What… what makes you feel good?”

Magnus hums and wraps his arms around Alec.

“You,” he says, and Alec can’t help but laugh.

“That’s a shit answer.”

“But a true one nonetheless,” Magnus insists. “I’ve been around the proverbial block long enough to know that to me, the details of what I’m doing don’t really matter when I’m doing it with someone I care about.”

He presses his body closer and lays a small kiss on the side of Alec’s mouth.

“And it helps that you’re so sexy, I sometimes forget to breathe.”

“That’s funny, I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

“See? We’re made for each other.”

Alec grins and kisses Magnus, careful not to get lost in it. Not yet.

“So, what about you, then?” Magnus asks quietly, still close enough that his lips brush Alec’s as they move. “Do you have any buttons I haven’t pushed yet?” His fingers rest on the buckle of the shadowhunter’s belt but don’t try to open it. “Or ones that you’d like to get pushed again?”

“I… I don’ t know,” Alec shrugs. Thinking straight isn’t exactly easy when Magnus is this close to him. With a coy smile and his heartbeat quickening with each passing second, he finally admits: “I guess I… I kind of like it when you rough me up.”

That’s not the extent of it, but it’s as far as he can go without wanting to hide under a rock somewhere.

Magnus’ hands shift, slide under Alec’s shirt and stay there. “Tell me.”

Despite being significantly shorter, Magnus has a way of making Alec feel so small in moments like these. He stares back at the warlock but can’t mirror his stoicism: he can’t help how his lips part and eyelids flutter, how he grabs Magnus’ shirt as if it’s an anchor.

“I, uh,” he starts, trying to gather his thoughts, “I like it when you bite my lip when you kiss me sometimes, y’know? And... And I,” he lowers his voice and takes a short breath, “and I like it when you tell me what to do, and tease me. It kind of… makes me want to beg.”

“I think I’d like to hear you beg,” Magnus says quietly. His fingers have made their way under the waistband of Alec’s underwear but his face is still calm, nothing but a spark in his cat-like eyes to indicate any excitement – well, ignoring what Alec feels pressed against his thigh. “I think I’d like to make you beg.”

Alec can’t stop himself from leaning in closer and kissing Magnus again. He’s already breathless and hard and anxious to undress, and when Magnus slides his hands down lower and squeezes his ass, it takes all of Alec’s strength not to let his knees buckle under him.

“You know what I’d also like?”

Alec has to bite his lip to stop himself from whimpering at the kiss suddenly breaking.

“W-what?”

“To have you on my bed,” Magnus starts slowly, glancing at the bedroom door behind Alec’s back, “in nothing but your boots.”

He looks back at Alec with his eyebrows slightly raised in question, as if there’s a chance the man would be anything but turned on by the suggestion.

“You are so sexy, you know that?” Alec whispers with a breathless laugh before stepping back. He hurries to the bedroom, already undressing, and Magnus follows.

This is the easy part. While Alec might lack confidence in what to do with his body, its appearance has never been an issue – a lifetime of Shadowhunter training does have _some_ perks. Even undressing so openly under someone’s watch isn’t that embarrassing, but in an attempt to tease and be as sexy as Magnus thinks he is, he turns his back to do it anyway. Taking off his trousers without removing his shoes proves to be a lot easier in theory, but he manages, hoping the clumsiness will somehow appear charming.

He feels Magnus’ stare the entire time, but it only makes him harder.

When his clothes are all scattered across the floor, Alec turns around. Magnus has leaned back against a dresser, his arms crossed on his chest, taking in the sight with a satisfied smile.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or what?” Alec bites his lip and tries his best not to let it show how ridiculously nervous and excited he is standing there like that, hands crossed behind his back, all of him exposed – somehow the boots just adding to how naked he feels. Magnus smirks, pulls off his shirt, and walks across the room.

The shadowhunter was expecting –hoping – to be pushed down and bitten, but of course Magnus has to act like they have all the time in the world. The kiss is slow and excruciatingly soft, contrasting the bulge pressed against Alec’s leg in a way that makes his already embarrassingly hard cock twitch against Magnus’ stomach; the quiet whimper leaving his throat sounds weak and desperate compared to the low hums resonating against his lips. He craves to pull Magnus closer, to undress him, to feel every inch of the warlock’s body on his – but when Magnus decides to control the pace and take his time, it’s hypnotizing. Still, he can’t help laying his hands on Magnus’ forearms and digging his nails into the skin.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” Magnus reminds him, softly tracing a rune on Alec’s side. His voice is quiet and breathless.

“So is chastity,” Alec points out, and – unable and unwilling to stop himself – leans in to grace Magnus’ lower lip with his teeth. 

“I thought you wanted me to do the biting,” Magnus whispers, with that same teasing smirk, but his breathing faster.

“Yeah, it works both ways for me.”

“We are definitely putting a pin on _that_.”

Finally Magnus kisses Alec like he needs to be kissed: deep and rough and with all the love in the world. Alec’s hands find their way to Magnus’ neck without him meaning them to, without Alec focusing on anything but the tongue moving against his now that the kiss is as hungry as he is. Their bodies press so close together that every little movement Magnus makes is sheer torture – and it’s made worse by Alec knowing Magnus damn well knows it, and enjoys it, and has no intention of stopping soon.

But it’s not like Magnus is the only one who can tease.

Alec allows himself one reckless kiss on Magnus’ neck before dropping down to his knees.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Magnus looks down at him with pleased disbelief: his mouth still open and face flushed, as if this is too much for him. For all Alec knows, it could very well be – even he’s turned on by himself on his knees like that.

“Look at you.” Magnus runs his fingers through Alec’s hair, sending chills down the younger man’s back. “Who’d have known I’d have Alec Lightwood on his knees.”

“Yeah, well,” Alec starts before he can stop himself, “I hope you’d know by now you can have me any way you want.”

He grins triumphantly at the reaction he gets: a quiet ‘oh’ and a firm tug of his hair. He lets his mouth fall open, knowing how hot his breath is against Magnus’ navel, letting it drive the man crazy but most of all, impatient.

“Good to know,” the warlock breathes out. Then, straightening his back, he starts: “Give me your hand.”

Alec obeys, letting his left hand rest on Magnus’ thigh as he holds out his right one. Magnus brings it to his lips first, gently kissing the palm with a teasing smile, and then – finally – guiding it to his cock, hard and ready under the light fabric of his pants. The contact makes Alec shiver in excitement.

“Now, take it out,” Magnus instructs him, his voice steady and low. He moves his hand back to Alec’s hair, letting it grace the man’s cheek on its way. “Slowly.”

Alec’s hand trembles as it does its best to comply. He wants to maintain eye contact but can’t resist lowering his gaze as the dark fabric steadily moves over: his heart thumps quicker the more he reveals, excited and nervous and anxious to continue. The muscles along Magnus’ stomach tremble as Alec impatiently leans in, but the hands in his hair stop him.

“ _Slowly_ ”, the man reminds him, his voice out of breath and distant. “Start with your hand, Alexander.”

The shadowhunter groans, disappointed but not really, and leans back and does as he’s told. And maybe it’s that he has only done this a couple times, or that it’s Magnus he’s touching, but wrapping his fingers around the man’s shaft sets every cell in Alec’s body on edge: it sends butterflies to his stomach and electricity down his veins, as if it’s his own cock he’s working. He feels the grip in his hair tighten as Magnus takes a sharp breath, and can’t help a moan of his own.

“That’s good,” Magnus breathes out, biting his lip as if for emphasis. “That’s… Now, move your hand. Slowly, up, and down, just like—Good. Now, just keep…” The thought trails off and never finishes, because the next thing he says is simply a breathless, “ _Alexander_.”

Alec may have only heard Magnus say his name like that a handful of times, but he knows the emphasis well enough to understand its full meaning.

Encouraged and impatient, he wets his lips and wraps them around the head of Magnus’ cock.

“ _Christ_ , Alexander,” Alec hears from somewhere above him, the words deliciously quiet and shaky. He has gone this far a couple of times before, but never any further: before now his nerves always managed to get the best of him. This time Alec is determined to not let that happen. He spreads his legs to better position himself on the floor (and if the adjustment turns him on even further, well, that’s just a plus), rests his hand on the base of Magnus’ dick, and taking in a deep breath, eases it into his mouth.

The sensation makes Alec shudder. The whole scene – him on the Persian rug in nothing but his boots, kneeled down to give himself so completely to someone so beautiful and powerful – is dirty and taboo and exciting, but also feels like the most natural thing in the world. Tears rise to Alec’s eyes, but he can’t stop watching Magnus: he refuses to miss a single shiver or shudder or silent groan; he wants to memorize every little expression and quiver he can draw out of the man. He moans, presses his tongue against Magnus, sucks in his cheeks, before he absolutely has to come up for air.

“God,” Magnus gasps.

Alec doesn’t waste a minute: he brushes his tongue against Magnus’ tip, tasting it coyly just to tease, before helping it back between his lips. He tries to remind himself to go slow, to be patient, but the way the other man’s cock slides so easily up and down his throat is enough to make him forget every goddamn principle he’s ever had that isn’t about fucking Magnus. The hungry, wet sounds accompanied by the warlock’s disheveled moans make Alec’s painfully hard erection twitch against his stomach, but something in him stops his hand from going to it – as much as he needs release, he needs Magnus’ touch more.

Suddenly he’s pulled back by his hair. Magnus looks down at him; breathless and trembling but still, somehow, steady and stoic and so much stronger than Alec, who can barely keep himself from squirming just looking up at the man in front of him. He tries to lean in again, but Magnus stops him.

“On the bed.”

Alec’s heart pounds as he hurries to obey. Magnus follows, kisses the shadowhunter before guiding him to his knees and turning him around to face the headboard – Alec leans against it in preparation, holds it with his knuckles white, but nearly collapses anyway when Magnus’ tongue grazes his entrance.

For a moment Alec thinks he might lose his mind. Then he can’t think at all.

Magnus’ breath is hot and uneven and constant against his skin, giving Alec no time to compose himself in between the kisses, leaving him unable to do anything but arch is back and moan out words that resemble ‘God’ and ‘fuck’ and whatever else he can think of that will let Magnus know just how good it feels – and it feels fucking incredible, it renders him helpless and weak; a writhing mess unaware of anything that isn’t Magnus’ mouth on his ass or the hand gently squeezing his dick. He lets go of the headboard and lets his head collapse on the mattress, his hands tugging at the covers, encouraged by Magnus’ movements growing bolder and more demanding. Then the touch disappears completely, just for a second, but long enough to make Alec groan in protest.

He still hasn’t found the words for the noise that escapes his throat when Magnus’ middle finger slowly presses into him.

“How does this feel?” Magnus asks, his voice low. Alec turns his head to look back at him and lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a gasp.

“Good,” he breathes out. “M-more.”

“Now, where are your manners?”

Magnus runs his unoccupied fingers down the side of Alec’s thigh, a satisfied smirk on his face. It’s been clear from the beginning he loves seeing Alec like this – and it works out well, because letting Magnus be in charge of him this way just happens to be the hottest thing Alec could imagine.

“Please,” the shadowhunter adds slowly, closing his eyes and bucking his hips to underline the word, “I-I want more of you inside me, _please_.”

He feels the mattress shift and hears a promising rustle from the bedside table as he speaks.

“Good boy.”

Alec shudders and for a second considers letting Magnus know the full extent of his fascination with submission, but before he knows it there are three slick fingers inside him, and his mouth makes the decision for him.

For a moment Magnus stops. Alec grimaces and bites his lip until it breaks, like it could somehow take back the word that escaped past it, his entire body suddenly tense and face burning hot against the duvet – then Magnus moves closer, leans over Alec, and quietly demands: “Say that again, Alexander.”

The words send a chill down Alec’s spine. He forces in a deep breath, unsure whether this is Magnus encouraging him or… trying to embarrass him? The thought seems ridiculous, but Alec still isn’t sure.

“I-I said—“, he starts, pausing to moan at the fingers moving slowly deeper into him, “I said, ‘ _yes, daddy._ ’”

Gathering up all his courage and self-restraint, Alec opens his eyes and turns to look at Magnus with defiance in his hazel eyes. Even if he doesn’t welcome the nickname, Alec knows Magnus can’t resist him like this: his face flushed, lips swollen and parted, his body bent and begging to be fucked apart.

After an agonizing moment of just looking back at him, silent, a grin spreads on Magnus’ face and he leans down to kiss Alec’s back.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you,” he whispers against Alec’s skin, his fingers stretching the man’s entrance with slow circles.

“J-just shut up and fuck me,” the man below him pleads breathlessly, letting his eyes close again as his hips match the motions of Magnus’ hand.

“’Shut up and fuck me,’ what?”

Alec wants to laugh, but the sound that comes out is more like a groan.

“Shut up and fuck me, _daddy_.” His voice is higher than he means to, more out of breath and desperate, but he doesn’t care – as long as Magnus does as he’s told, he doesn’t care about anything else.

And Magnus has always had a soft spot for Alec’s demands.

Before he knows it, he’s flipped on his back. Magnus leans in and helps Alec on his lap, close enough to kiss, but when the man leans forward and tries to, he leans back – with that same smirk, knowing full well the effect it has, and as if in revenge Alec quickly leans up a little further to grab Magnus’ lower lip between his teeth and suck on it until it’s swollen. It might have, for a moment, given him the upper hand, if not for the fact that his involuntary moans drown out every sound the kiss draws out of the warlock.

“Remember what I said about patience?”

“Remember what I said about fucking me?”

Magnus laughs and sits up. His right hand reaches for the bottle beside him and opens it again, the left one holding onto Alec’s thigh and keeping it still, though the rest of the man is already squirming in anticipation.

Alec closes his eyes and leans his head back, reminding himself to breathe, forgetting to breathe when the first inch of Magnus enters him, and breathing again as the second inch makes him gasp. The few times they’ve done this before, Alec has bitten his lip or the pillow or Magnus’ shoulder, but after what they’ve already done tonight it would feel ridiculous to hold back now – and turns out letting himself grab at the duvet and moan to his heart’s content eases some of the initial pain of having all of Magnus slowly slide into him.

Magnus stays there for a moment, letting Alec get used to it, before pulling back a bit. When he pushes back in, he helps Alec’s legs over his shoulders and holds onto them, his black nails pressing into the skin as their moans get lost in each other – even if Alec’s are still more desperate and hungry.

“You can tell me to slow down if you need me to,” Magnus reminds him, leaving kisses on his lover’s leg as his hips make slow circles. “You can tell me to stop if you want.”

“God, n-no,” Alec stammers before his words all meld together again and come out as incoherent swears and whimpers. He wants to tell Magnus how good it feels, how it hurts but also doesn’t – how he somehow feels it on every inch of his skin, every muscle tense and relaxed and tingling at once – but he can barely put two words together, so he sticks to cursing and moaning and writhing his hips, and hopes it’s enough to convey the message. He locks his ankles together behind Magnus’ neck, the weight of the boots making it easier, and pulls the warlock in for a frantic kiss that slows their bodies down but makes Alec whimper anyway. He’s beginning to think he’d react that way to anything, as long as it’s with Magnus.

The kiss breaks as Magnus moves a hand over Alec’s cock, gripping and caressing it to the excruciatingly slow rhythm of his hips. Alec’s head bends back into the mattress and his body tries to urge the warlock on, quickening their pace, but Magnus stops him with a rough thrust that goes deeper than the ones before.

“You want me to fuck you harder?”

Alec does his best to catch his breath as he nods frantically, trying to speak through the shocks still going through his body.

“Yes; _please_ , d-daddy, yes,” he pleads quietly. Magnus kisses his neck but doesn’t obey.

“Tell me, darling.”

Magnus’ hold on his dick tightens for a moment, then eases up, then tightens again. His hips don’t move at all, leaving Alec to groan and gyrate in frustration.

“I-I want—fuck, you _have_ to fuck me harder,” Alec begs, his voice low and anxious, “I can’t take this, daddy, j-just fuck me—“

The warlock finally does as he’s told, and it cuts Alec short, replacing whatever he was going to say with a surprised cry. The pace quickens and gets rougher, and he has to remind himself to breathe again, the mix of pain and pleasure and torture and relief overwhelming as Magnus pushes deeper into him every time he thinks it’s impossible to go any further; the hand around his cock moves to grab his thigh, the nails digging deliciously into his skin; Alec, with no patience or hesitation, runs a tongue over his palm and moans as he gets his fingers tightly wrapped around his shaft, his hand moving quicker and quicker as the pleasure becomes unbearable.

Then the familiar waves start coming, and the world around them stops. Magnus leans back to hold Alec closer, his groans louder and more urgent by the second, though Alec only barely registers the noise: his eyes are shut tight, and all he can feel is the man hot and hard deep inside him and the warmth in his stomach spreading, his toes curling in his boots, as he grabs a fistful of the duvet and pulls at it as his body grinds helplessly against Magnus—

“ _God_ , daddy, I-I—“

For a moment everything’s a blur; for one timeless, divine moment it’s just Magnus’ body against and inside his as his body trembles and writhes and jolts, small streams of white splattering across his chest and neck. The waves crash over him, and before they’ve gotten a chance to stop, Magnus pulls himself out: Alec gasps at the sudden feeling of emptiness, then at the warm, heavy drops setting on his stomach – he opens his eyes just enough that he can see the look of euphoria mirrored in Magnus’ face, the man resting his head against Alec’s thigh, the rise and fall of his chest fast and heavy.

“Christ, Alec,” he breathes out. A tired smile sets on the younger man’s lips as he watches Magnus: the eyes closed in exhaustion and ecstasy, the strong arms still holding the shadowhunter in his lap, the warlock usually so poised now overwhelmed by the pleasure that Alec made him feel. A new kind of glow warms up Alec’s chest: the kind he’s only felt once or twice before and only in moments like these, when he’s sweaty and tired and his skin is touching Magnus’.

“Come here,” Alec whispers, just loud enough to make the warlock open his eyes and lean down to kiss him. What was supposed to be a short, lazy kiss turns into a long, leisurely one: each time one of them leans back to break the embrace, the other closes the distance, pressing short laughs on each other’s lips as their bodies calm down against one another. When Magnus finally sits up and reaches for the nightstand, Alec lets his eyes close and legs fall down on the mattress. The heavy thuds make him grin.

“So. Boots, huh?”

Magnus laughs and helps Alec off his lap.

“It’s less about the boots and more about how you wear them,” he says, softly wiping the mess they’ve made off Alec’s body. "And I kind of like the idea of you walking around wearing something I’ve had you in.”

He sets the crumpled paper aside and kisses Alec’s dry chest before shifting back on the bed. He runs his hands slowly down Alec’s thighs, over the sensitive skin on the back of his knees, before moving both hands to untie a boot and helping it off. The kiss on his ankle makes Alec giggle, even more so when Magnus repeats it on his other foot, and the laughter doesn’t stop until Magnus is back at his side.

“I like you,” Alec says quietly, a smile still wide on his face. Shifting on his side to rest his head against Magnus’ chest, he knows he’s way past ‘like’, but there are only so many firsts he can handle in one night, so he just lays an arm across Magnus’ waist and moves in closer.

“I like you, too.”

Magnus moves his arm around Alec and with his free hand reaches for the corner of the duvet, pulling the sheet over them.

Sometime during the night it had started to rain: Alec listens to the drops tap steadily against the window as he lets his eyes close again. His breathing returns to its normal pace, but the glow in his chest is still there, warm and comfortable, like maybe Magnus knows it’s there without him having to say it.

Magnus’ fingers run slowly through his messy hair, and the heartbeat under his ear is strong and calm, and the silence fallen over the room feels forever.


End file.
